


Deleted scenes

by My_Beating_Hart



Series: A Mahariel's Scraps [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen, M/M, Missing Scene, Missing Scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3277319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Beating_Hart/pseuds/My_Beating_Hart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of various snippets that didn't quite make it into the main series, for whatever reason, some are half-finished. These are the ones which, for the most part, have a place in the plot. I might spin pieces from these (i.e the Brecilian Forest-set pieces) in the future, when I have time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deleted scenes

**Author's Note:**

> Bold text indicates my notes.

**Of Stags and Wolves - Alternate title I came up with way, way too late to use :( Also maybe a little cliche. Instead found it’s way onto the blog.**

~

“You put your own in cages?” Theron asked, his voice clipped and flat as he stared at the prisoner in the cage, short body tensed.

“Well, he’s a deserter…” Alistair explained, but his voice came out a lot less firm and a lot feebler than he’d intended, trailing off entirely in the face of the Dalish elf’s outright glare, even though it was directed at the guard in front of the cage.

~

"So, um... Are you really an elf?"

"Did the ears give me away?"

"Father said elves aren't very nice. But you're nicer than everyone else here."

Theron blinked in surprise as the boy smiled shyly at him.

"Thank you for helping me!" The child added as he ran off towards the tents.

"I..." Theron said, watching the human lad go. He seemed lost for words.

~

**Set once the group reach Brecilian Forest, a few days after Fen. Theron and Zevran’s relationship is still in a grey area, this is a small speech given to Zev after he maybe pokes fun at Theron’s sudden pride for his heritage too many times and gets pulled to one side. Helps Zevran start to respect Theron, which means Theron begins to trust him enough to grow closer - the start of their relationship proper comes not long after, around the time of curing the werewolves - maybe Zevran's unexpected approval makes Theron realise Zevran's deeper and more sincere than he thought?**

“The forest hides thorns, Zevran. We may be elves, you and I, but that is where our similarities end. Nature can be merciful, with plentiful hunting and plants to ease pains, but she can be brutal as well. Wolves, plants that kill with a single touch or berry that mimic ones that help. The Dalish know all the forest is capable of, and know exactly how to use it to their advantage. You do not. You are a guest in this forest of ours, and never forget that.”

~

“Theron. Theron Mahariel.”

A slight hush went through the elves close enough to hear as the ranger gave his name, and Zathrian narrowed his eyes at the black-haired elf.

“Mahariel? Of the Sabrae clan?”

“Yes. You know my clan?”

“Of course, the clan that found the ruin and lost two hunters to it some moons ago. I suppose you are... _Were_ one of those hunters?”

“Yes. But I am more than that now. Grey Warden, a ranger.”

“You’ve done a lot in the past few months, Mahariel.”

“I suppose I have.”

“I wonder if you are anything like your mother?”

Theron tensed at that, his shoulders twitching slightly as the line of his jaw hardened. The rest of the group looked on in confusion and curiosity at the first ever mention of one of the Dalish elf’s parents, and his unusual reaction to it.

“Possibly.” Theron all but spat the word out. “If she was a Warden as well, it seems my Keeper failed to tell me.”

“You come from a long, proud lineage.” The bald elf commented, as if in warning. “It would not do to disappoint that expectation.”

“I am not here to discuss my family as if I were a halla stud.” Theron answered tersely, voice growing firm as his patience began to fray. “I am here about the treaty.”

“Of course.”

**[In-game dialogue blah blah werewolves want to eat us please go kill them, then on the road to the forest after some uncomfortable silence from the group with Theron walking on ahead.]**

“So… Your mother…?”

“Yes. Now please stop pestering me.”

 ~

Theron relaxed as he straightened up, Iloren’s halla lifting her head up to stare back at him. It was as if some of the halla’s serenity had rubbed off on him, the way the tension drained out of his completely. She and her mate would be fine now. The ranger turned back to the group that had been waiting a respectful distance away, noticing how Zevran was standing with his arms folded and a strange expression on his face as he approached.

“I suppose that explains your behaviour towards me. You certainly prefer the company of animals.” The Antivan muttered, and Theron froze midstride. Leliana winced, and Alistair let out a hissing breath.

The ranger turned to look at the Antivan, who seemed to have realised his very poor choice of words.

“I did not mean-” He began quickly, but was stopped when Theron stepped closer and punched him. Something crunched under his knuckles, Zevran staggered away cupping his bleeding nose and swearing in Antivan. Morrigan laughed darkly to herself.

“If that’s how you planned to get into my tent tonight, I’m afraid you were mistaken.”

Zevran looked up at him, blood dripping down between gaps in his fingers onto the grass. There was something in his gaze apart from the obvious pain - something akin to respect.

~  **[Skip something like 10 months to Denerim and the Arl's estate.]**

Alistair, unsurprisingly, didn’t bother to wait to be called in when he knocked on the door.

“Theron, have you…” The ex-Templar trailed off when he saw Zevran was the only occupant in the room, a towel mercifully wrapped around his waist as he rubbed his hair with another. Zevran lowered his arms as the human ground to a halt just within the doorway, shooting him an amused smirk but saying nothing. He turned ever so slightly, allowing the sunlight pouring into the room to throw his tattoos into even greater contrast. Showoff.

“Um. Why aren’t you dressed? It’s noon.” Alistair said when he remembered he had a tongue. The Antivan sighed, and returned to drying his hair.

“Because I just finished bathing, my dear Templar friend. That tends to be common practice, no? I would ruin good clothes and leather otherwise.” He answered patiently, draping the towel over his shoulders and combing his fingers through his hair.

“Right. Where’d Theron go to?”

Zevran shrugged.

“I am not his keeper, as much as I would have you all believe. He is probably in the grounds somewhere, if I had to guess. Perhaps with the hound.”

“Thanks.”

With that, Alistair quickly left the room, pulling the door firmly shut behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Whether that last one is canon or not, I'll leave up to you guys.


End file.
